Kharlan Lullabies
by Wandering Sentinel
Summary: Life, freedom… I suppose such words do little to describe one such as me.


_This little number is kinda the start of what may eventually develop into a short story. Kicking around the idea and trying out a few things in the mean time while at the same time reworking the Pirate King to more my liking._

_Let me know what you think about it.  
_

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Prologue: A Seraphim's War

Life, freedom… I suppose such words do little to describe one such as me.

Bondage, sacrifice, duty… Ah, now those words paint a far more accurate portrait.

Perhaps I was _favored_ by the gods, by the Spirits, by Origin himself. _Favored_ by such divine beings to lead the world into twisted ruin, to blindly follow the mad whims of an equally mad child and become death incarnate.

No… favor had nothing to do with my fate, for that was self inflicted. No divinity will shoulder the blame for my condition. The sins of my past are just that, mine.

My humanity—my very soul— I had offered my entire being to the cause of the lunatic orphan Mithos… and for what? To restore his broken ideal of family? To end this cursed world's suffering? No… I was not so noble a man back then, my reason was simply that of selfish desire.

I had followed the young summoner in the beginning so that I might have a second chance. My life was indebted to heavenly Martel. I would have been forfeit had she not rescued me with angelic grace. Because of Martel, I truly felt as though I belonged, that I had begun life anew with such an odd collection of companions as herself, her betrothed, and her young brother. I had grieved her passing, and in my grief, I swore I would do anything to regain what had been stolen from me. Such a fool I was to believe we could rob the grave, from the very domain of Shadow.

I would be lying if I said I had not regretted my millennia of ill deeds and torture, but I would also be lying if I stated I would do things differently, knowing the outcome at the end. Sounds odd does it not? Have my lifetimes of existence truly taken what little sanity I had been gifted? Nearly two decades ago, I would have said yes, though Origin had decided to favor me between then and now. I had discovered the love of a woman, a mate, and through her, the pride of fatherhood.

I wish I could have foreseen what kind of man my progeny would grow into, to see how my son would one day strike out at the heavens and tear them asunder. His actions were the downfall of a goddess and her angels, of the terrible madness created from a grieving child as he smote the world in his fury. Who would imagine the son would save his enslaved father and the world simply through his sheer resolve, his purity?

Such a humbling thought, to have an eternity of sorrow and error within my life and soul erased by a child who was not even a dot on the canvas of history and time; though, he is more than a dot now, I imagine. Humanity must have its heroes after all. The virtue that reunited the world now must guide both Sylvarant and Tethe'alla away from ruin, and the path is fraught with peril.

My son now must battle the gasping remnants of Mithos' reign, he must fight against the budding hate in the reunited world, and he must wrestle with ever-present discrimination. The obstacles in the future are formidable indeed, but not insurmountable, not for one such as my son.

But even though I have faith in Lloyd, is it not a father's duty to aid his son? I may be a relic of a man, a shade of my former self, but my captivity has given me strength. To use that strength to aid my son in his future would be the ultimate rebellion, the final break to my shackles. I may not be able to eliminate all of the pain and suffering in the time to come, but I can take this abomination of a life and finally put it to use.

Ridding the world of the final scourges of Mithos and his insane fantasy would be my final gift to my son. Taking Derris Kharlanand its horrors deep into the cosmos would be my absolute farewell. Staying by his side would have eventually torn all his work apart. Because, in the end, I also am an artifact of Mithos.

So now I have shed one prison for another, leaving an eternity of tormented captivity for a sentence much less painful. I find myself enslaved once more, but my bonds are light, my yoke is loose. If these chains mean a future for my son and his world, then I gladly wear them.

I am not the only prisoner, however. The spawn of a false heaven, Mithos' chosen angels share this cell with me. The denizens of Derris Kharlan themselves do not threaten this new world, as their goals died along with their leader. No, it is their life blood, the horrid creations known as ex spheres that will end all life in a blood-stained flash.

That is my task, to take those vile stones and cast them far into Origin's cosmos. A captive among the stars, I sacrificed a life with my son and his new world so that hope would prevail. Battling these fake saviors, ridding their cursed existence from time and space, is my duty to my progeny.


End file.
